Harry Potter, Dark King
by Baronvonblack
Summary: As Harry descends further into madness a dark genius emerges. With his strange powers growing, will Harry go on to shape the world to his whim as he desires or be drowned in his own impending insanity?
1. Chapter 1

Golden rays of light filtered through the curtains of the small bedroom. The room was stuffy, overbearingly hot and full of dust, but it was quiet and away from the hustle and bustle of life. Specifically, Harry's life.

Teenagers were a complicated creature, of course, but Harry had many things that made him even more unusual than the typical teenager. Although one might guess it was the fact that he was a wizard that could do magic, and indeed for the uninitiated muggle that would be rather unusual, that was not the case. Nor was it even that he had fought a tyrannical Dark Lord over many occasions in his difficult life, though it had marked him out as special even among his fellow wizards.

Harry sat there in a meditative trance, listening to the dark whispers inside his head, trying to discern them all. They had grown progressively louder throughout the summer, to the point where he could count over a hundred different voices, whispering dark truths to him – muddled, but truths indeed.

Through them, he knew many things, and although on many occasions their truth was distant and hazy, like trying to listen through a wall or a pane of murky glass, sometimes they were sharply clear. And he had found out that what they were always telling him was the truth.

His Aunt's hidden jealousy of his mother, the reason why in a rage he had been locked in his bedroom for several days without food or water. The secret fear she and her husband possessed, of his kind, and even secret awe of what they could do. The fears and weaknesses of his cousin, Dudley… and even truths far away from his location.

In his heart, something stirred, and Harry somehow knew that they were indeed truths, though he only glimpsed them.

Dumbledore hiding secrets… a room full of orbs, important to him but especially Voldemort… and something that horrified him – some of his fellow classmates' fear of him. Of what had happened, that night in the graveyard.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before standing up, making his way to the window. The Dursleys had learnt their lessons and kept it unbarred, and though tricky Harry had eventually found a way to get down and up. He effortlessly climbed out the small window, scaling his way down to the ground and away.

"_You are in no danger now…" _a voice whispered – Harry barely heard it amidst the constant murmurs. _"The bumblebee cannot see you…"_

Although Harry had found it a constant struggle at first to comprehend their riddles, as the days progressed he found it easier and easier, as if a fog had lifted off his mind.

Something was different. He was changing… crystal clear images of many of the books he had read were burnt into his mind, and he had gone out, procuring more, on any subject imaginable. Physics, biology, chemistry, weaponry, fiction, military tactics… everything was hungrily read and retained, and he yearned for more.

As he went through the park, as he always did, he noticed there was a small group of teens, hanging out by the playground.

Recognising some of them from his old primary, Harry stuck his hands in his pockets and prepared to walk by, but fate it seemed had other plans for him as one of them turned to notice him.

"Well, if it isn't old Potty-head!" One of the boys turned and sneered.

Harry paused, observing them coolly. He had no desire to play with prepubescent children, but he was not going to allow one of his former bullies to push him around as they once had at primary. "Afternoon, Sam," he greeted. "I see you've gained weight."

Harry's cool observation had caused said boy to turn red as the other teens sniggered, struggling to hide their laughter.

"You'd better watch your mouth Potty," Sam snapped.

In primary school Harry would have stuttered and apologised, and even last year he would have done the same. The boy was significantly bigger and heavier and there was the matter of his friends – though lanky he was outnumbered. The only person who he knew wasn't going to fight would be the girl, Lisa, whom he had a crush on as a child – she was popular and rich, and it seemed nothing had changed, including her arrogant and snooty demeanour.

"_Bad boys bad boys," _a voice sang, so horridly that Harry nearly winced. _"What'ya gonna do when they come for you?"_

Harry regarded the boy with intense, probing eyes, before stepping forward until he was right up against him. People didn't like it when you came too close into their personal space, and doing this, especially in the face of a seemingly stronger person would both unnerve and confuse them. "Do you know what people say about me these days, Sam?" he uttered in a low tone, though clear enough to be heard by everyone.

"N-No…" the tremor in his voice did not go unnoticed. So the boy was a coward.

"I'm sure you do," Harry answered, continually regarding him with cold eyes. "I'm sure you've heard rumours…where do they say I go, Sam?"

The boy's eyes widened in horror. "St. Brutus's..." he whispered.

"St. Brutus's," Harry repeated in a hiss. "Let me make myself very clear Sam. They fear me in there, so why do you think I would be afraid of a little fatty like yourself?"

Sam whimpered – the boy actually whimpered!

"So run along with your pansy little friends, unless you want me to show you why I ended up there in the first place!" Gradually his voice turned into a growl, and the message was clear. Sam bolted back, putting on a brave face as he and his friends left – however Lisa turned around to look at him in awe, and Harry gave her a wink before turning around to leave, although not without seeing her faint blush.

-A-

Harry spent the rest of the day generally doing nothing around town and reading in the library. Something was changing in him. That slight unease he felt when he was without his wand vanished, and he felt like he was carrying his wand in his hand everywhere, ready to sling off a blasting curse. Eventually, the feeling of invincibility led Harry to wonder whether he really needed his wand at all.

Sitting back in his bedroom, Harry thought he was crazy for trying this, then realised that he was crazy anyway for hearing voices inside his head – the realisation that he actually listened to said voices inside his head, left him more amused than horrified.

"_Wingardium Leviosa,"_ Harry incanted, waving his hand in the motions at the book on his bed. Nothing. _"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" _Harry yelled, trying it again.

But still it did not work. Harry sat there, contemplating his failure.

"_Will," _the voices whispered to him.

Harry decided to try again – but this time, he did not stretch out his hand. He focused on the book and _willed _it to move.

The book shot up like a bullet, slamming into the ceiling – Harry quickly got over his initial surprise, focusing and refining his control as he levitated it around his room. Hedwig watched curiously as it orbited through the room in a circle, so similar to the lunar orbit of the Earth in fact that Harry in amusement willed other books and utensils to float up, and he recreated the orbit of the planetary systems, using Dudley's old basketball as the sun. He watched it for a moment until he became bored then decided if he could make them float there indefinitely, and did.

"I should have known this earlier," he mused. Magic, of course, was not about wand waving and incantations, and were in fact rather meaningless. True magic, was about the will, although he wondered about his own ability to use magic. Even if it was about will, he knew that even a strong wizard could not have done what he just did without a wand, even if he had a will of iron.

So he was unique.

Harry began playing with his ability, checking first to see if he could unlock his door – once he did, he relocked it then saw whether he could do other things. He started off with what he knew at first, seeing what he could do, pushing his limits as he at first caused bright yellow flames to burst up around the basketball without burning it, before changing the books to become actual orbs that represented their planetary body. He turned the ceiling black and dotted it with twinkling stars, sending an occasional comet streaking across it, before conjuring things out of thin air then letting them vanish. He was hungry for McDonalds, but found the taste was bland and so threw it up into the air, and fired a beam of energy that incinerated it. He laughed at this – what was the fun of cool powers without flashing lights?

As he experimented further and further, he found that although his abilities were pretty cool, any extremely fine manipulation was difficult and in some places impossible. The voices were telling him he was still yet to grow, and Harry knew that his powers would become better and more powerful in time.

All this effort left Harry hungry and with a slight headache. Though tired, there was no way he was going to let the night end. He threw on some clothes, about to change them into an outfit much cooler before he decided against it, and went out the window to go clubbing.

-A-

There was only one place that Lisa and her friends would have gone to, a place even Dudley and his goons wouldn't have been invited to – a secret, VIP party that went on every Friday. Harry had heard of it through his occasional eavesdropping, and thus knew where it was.

Walking into a side alley, Harry stepped into a seemingly innocent pawn shop, walking past the shopkeeper as he prepared to make his way downstairs.

"Hey!" the man shouted, grabbing his arm. "What're you doing?"

"I'm here for the party," Harry answered casually.

The man, who was clearly the bouncer, eyed his outfit distastefully. "Beat it kid."

Harry frowned – so he was going to be that way huh? "Go down into the manhole and eat rats," he instructed.

The man turned, and walked away – Harry saw him wring open the manhole and climb down. He wasn't sure whether that would work, but apparently it did – against the weak-minded.

Going down into the basement led to a door into the adjacent, seemingly abandoned warehouse, which when Harry entered was far from abandoned. The party was full of life, with heavy underground drum and bass music playing as he pushed his way through the people.

Lisa was there, dressed for a night out in a chequered dress. As she turned around, she looked surprised to see him as he brushed past her, giving her a mischievous smirk before heading up the stairs.

He leaned on the rails, watching the party unfold beneath him.

"_The prey approaches."_

"Hey Lisa," Harry said without turning around. "How've you been?"

Lisa stepped beside him. "How did you know it was me?" she asked with a frown.

"Oh, you know." Harry replied casually before twisting his body round to face her. "So as I said – how've you been?"

"Well, okay. Listen, I'm sorry about Sam and the others… I mean, you know how they can be sometimes…"

Harry snorted. "Those boys? Don't worry about it Lisa. I have a feeling they won't be bothering me again."

Unconsciously Lisa shifted closer to him. She certainly looked pretty. That dress hugged her body tightly, and Harry remembered how his Aunt and Uncle had spoken of her so fondly – oh, of how accomplished she was, how graceful as a dancer and an athlete, such an intelligent, well-spoken young girl...

But Harry saw her for what she was. She wanted to get her claws into this mysterious bad boy, one who had so easily brushed off a boy that even Dudley had respect for. She wanted to be the source of gossip, Miss popular, the one who had snagged the enigmatic Harry Potter, who had changed from a scared little boy into a ragged, street-smart teen.

And who was Harry to deny her that?

She smiled. "Not with the way you handled them. You were pretty smooth back there."

"Of course," Harry said in an off-handed manner. "What would you expect?"

"Well I don't know…" she glanced down when his intense gaze locked with hers, and began playing with her hair – typical female signals of interest, ones she had probably mastered. "They say a lot of things about you, Harry. I find it hard to know which ones are truth or fiction."

"If it helps, I can't fly and I don't dress up like a bat," he smirked, eliciting a small giggle from her. "And I wouldn't be playing them, of course. After all, I am the bad guy."

"You don't seem so bad to me, Harry…" Lisa whispered huskily, leaning in slightly.

"You think so?" Harry also leaned forward, but pushed past her lips and began whispering into her ear. "You won't get me that easy, Lisa. I know through your whole life you've had people bowing at your feet, but I'm not some street thug to be used and thrown away like a broken toy. I'm not playing your game, you're playing mine now, and trust me, you're going to love it. I'm going to show you things you never wished you saw but excite you so much you'll be drawn in. Let go of me for a second and you'll be lost in the darkness."

She shivered as he gently stroked her neck, before straightening up, and began heading down. "Come on. This party's boring anyway."

Lisa ran to catch him. "So, where're we going?"

Harry smiled. "Shopping."

-A-

"What are you doing, the shops all close by six!" Lisa protested as Harry walked down the main street of town. At this time of night, the street was completely deserted.

"What do you think of all these stores?" Harry asked, as they passed through an alley down a small side street.

"My dad calls this the high-class street..." Lisa commented as they passed extravagant window displays filled with expensive jewellery. "He got my mum a necklace from here for her birthday two years ago."

"Nice. So even your dad treads carefully round buying stuff from here huh?" Harry said as he stopped in front of a particularly nice clothes store, checking through the window for obvious security measures. Part of his time at the library had been at the computers, looking up some rather dodgy sites for information, sifting through the dregs of the Internet for information gold. And though the information, as always was still clear in his mind and he had tried some smaller stuff, he was eager to try something a little bigger.

"Yeah, although that doesn't explain why we're here..."

"Let me ask you a question. Could your credit card buy anything from here?"

"Probably would use up all my monthly allowance to do so. I mean, we're rich, but we're not that rich."

"I thought so. And I don't need to be psychic to know that it's your dad that gives you your allowance. Well let me tell you something. You see, my parents gave me an inheritance, but as of now I can't access it. You can't always rely on other people, especially when you can do it yourself."

"Wait...what?"

His words had barely registered in Lisa's mind before he moved forward, pulling a homemade pick from his pocket. He pushed it in, and after fiddling around there came an audible click as he opened the door. "Wait here, and stay quiet. An alarm's set to go off in 30 seconds if the pin isn't put in, and I see two cameras."

He pulled open the keypad, and swiftly readjusted some wires before the keypad beeped affirmative. He then used magic to short out the cameras, before walking through the store, opening the security door at the back. There was a computer terminal linked up to the cameras, and seeing the password on a nearby table, he swiftly accessed and set the cameras up on a loop, making sure his influence was untraceable.

Harry walked out, and pulled Lisa into the store. "It's safe now."

Lisa opened her mouth, as if to say something, but all she ended up doing was gawking at him. "Y-You..."

"Yes. I did. Honestly, it was easier than I thought," Harry admitted. "The alarm system probably hasn't been updated in a while and is an older model, while the password to the computer was quite close. I've heard of people who pin the combinations to safes next to them. The hardest part was picking the lock."

It was evident speech still hadn't returned to her. "H-How..."

"Experience," Harry half-lied. He had tried smaller crimes, like pick pocketing and shoplifting or picking and relocking his lock at the Dursleys, but the speed with which he had learnt these skills was frightening, and almost incomprehensible considering his slowness in picking things up at Hogwarts. The way he did it, it was like he had been doing it for years.

Lisa finally found her voice. "But you can't do this! It's stealing! They'll put you in..."

"Who?" Harry interrupted. "The cops? They can't pin this on me; I'll make sure the blame is deflected later on. Besides, what's the point of buying everything? That's so... drab." He looked at a very nice watch, and lifting the keys from beneath the counter, opened up the cabinet to see it better, before deciding it was too flashy. "Tell me Lisa, why shouldn't I just lift every single watch out of here?"

"Because it's against the law..."

"And why should I listen to the law? If someone made it a law you had to jump off the cliff, would you? Just because something is a law doesn't mean it's always best for the people. Although in this case I understand the obvious concerns regarding if everyone were to start stealing freely..." he gave her a wink. "I'm sure they can make an exception for us. Just a little object lesson to get you started, after all, and besides, I could use some nicer clothes. Just go ahead, take anything you want, but not too much, we don't want them to immediately know they've been robbed. Then again, it is a rather large store..."

He was sure that he could go into Gringotts, get some money and go on a shopping spree in Diagon Alley. But what was the point of that? It was much more fun to steal it all.

Harry decided to go for several different outfits, finding a nice, very well-made leather jacket and another gray woollen jacket. He also took several different sets of jeans, some nice shirts and cardigans, as well as taking a rugged, sleek watch that was according to its label "built to military specs".

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Lisa laughed incredulously as she went straight for a dress she had her eye on for a while. "I'm stealing from one of the most expensive stores in town..."

"I bet daddy couldn't give you this amount of freedom," Harry said with a smirk. "Living by your own rules instead of someone else's is much more fun don't you think?"

-A-

"My heart is actually pounding right now," Lisa said with a laugh as they sat in the very same park that Harry went by that afternoon. "That was...such a rush! Is that what you feel every time you break the rules?"

"Sometimes," Harry admitted, not wanting her to know that he had gotten just as much of a rush out of it. "But it is a good feeling isn't it?"

"...The best..." Lisa breathed as she rested her head on his shoulder. After that, they had broken into a mall since Harry knew they were usually guarded by hired men, and broken into several stores. Timing their runs was what he wanted to give her that rush – the feeling of being so close to getting caught yet so far...

He was wearing his new clothes, having discarded Dudley's old hand-me-downs. Sitting beside him was a box of the very latest gaming console and several games, as well as a laptop, and several pieces of jewellery which the voices told him would be useful.

"Tell me Harry... were you always like this?"

"Being honest? No." Harry smiled as he reminisced. "Oh, I was a little rebellious I guess, sneaking out after curfew, but nothing major, and I was easily influenced. But, you know, it took a big shock for me to realise that nothing is as it seems. Why should I listen to someone who I don't even like or respect, say a politician or school teacher? Better yet, how do I know that they're not lying to me or playing me like a puppet?"

"I feel like that sometimes," Lisa admitted. "Sometimes I feel like I have to listen to everyone, and have to live up to their expectations. But why should I care whether they want me to be an accountant or lawyer? It's what I want. Why should I have to be perfect little Lisa Turner?"

"You play them for the fool first," Harry replied. "They think you're their little puppet, but it's you that's holding the strings. You use everyone's expectation of you to cover up what you're doing, because they don't expect anything like that from you. Golden boy or not, when they least expect it you turn their world upside down."

"Sounds like you know what you're talking about," Lisa observed.

"I do. When you stop playing by other people's rules and play only by your own the game changes. Suddenly, you're the chess master playing them for fools. You're the one in control, and the rest of the world can shove it. That's when you can make big changes."

Harry stood up, turning to face her. "I have to be honest with you, Lisa. You see, I don't actually go to St. Brutus's."

Lisa paused, thinking on this. "I didn't think so. I mean, true, we did break into several stores, but you were too smooth for some teen street thug, and you're too smart. And I know how overblown some rumours can get."

"That's right." Harry smirked. "I actually go to a private school in Scotland. My parents signed me up for it before I was born, and before they died."

Lisa laughed at this. "You know, you're pretty good for some snotty rich kid."

"And you're pretty good for an arrogant rich airhead blonde," Harry answered bluntly, "though you're much prettier than any of the other plastic girls I see."

Lisa smiled seductively, leaning in. "There's more to this girl than just looks..."

"That's because inside you're a snake."

And Harry kissed her.

-A-

Harry returned to his room infinitely satisfied with himself. Who knows, maybe he would show her the magical world, just to jerk off the Ministry morons. Either way, he didn't care at all about what they thought. He didn't care at all about returning to Hogwarts, and he certainly didn't give a piss whether Dumbledore liked it or not.

He was playing by his own rules now. He could do whatever he wanted.

-A-

A/N: If reader response to this story is good I will continue with it as long as I am able, unlike some of my other stories.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Before anyone complains, this is my 'relaxing' story. That is, whenever I just want to absolutely screw around and piss everyone off, I write the next chapter on this. The Harry Potter storyline just makes it too easy anyway. Not to be taken too seriously though there will be some dark and serious moments in it. Rating may be changed to M soon.

-A-

"Boy!" The fathead Vernon began pounding on his door. "Open this up at once!"

Harry looked up from his book towards the door, paused, and then continued reading.

"BOY! If you won't come out I'll break this ruddy door down!" Vernon sounded gleeful at that. "And there'll be no food for a week!"

Like they gave him enough to eat anyway. He could easily sneak out, as he had been doing to buy something with actual sustenance. And he could see Lisa while he was at it.

"That's it, I'm coming in here!"

The clinking of keys signalled him to the fat bastard's attempt, but Harry was unconcerned. He plopped down the comic book, and reached for the next one. After this, he would read some more on that firearms manual, before finishing off the rest of the latest Call of Duty game.

BEEP! BEEP! Harry reached for his Blackberry, flicking it open to read Lisa's latest text message, asking if they could meet for lunch. He quickly tapped a reply in the affirmative before opening his Green Lanterns comic book, and continued reading.

It wasn't like he particularly _liked_ the Green Lanterns, in fact, he really hated the blue midgets. But he thought he'd better get some inspiration, for his magic.

So far he found there was nothing he couldn't do – to a certain point. Finer details still escaped him, and on particularly larger things he got extremely tired and sleepy. The voices helped teach him, encourage him, and nurture his talent. Somehow he knew they had blocked off his connection to Voldemort as he had slept very soundly day after day.

But if he was only limited by his imagination and willpower (and thankfully not by yellow things – honestly, who came up with that?), then he wanted to make the most of it. What was the point of having this talent if his imagination couldn't keep up?

So he had dived headfirst into pop culture, and he had to admit... there were a lot of things he needed to catch up on, living in a cupboard for his whole childhood could do that, after all.

It was when he had read The Watchmen by Alan Moore that he was struck with a thought – what if, like the godlike Dr. Manhattan, he could manipulate atoms via his magic? Was that why he could do the things he could? And if so... the possibilities were endless. What if he could break his body down and rebuild it, piece by piece to be superior, tireless, superhumanly strong?

He had studied hard on human biology, and was attempting to correct his eyes halfway through the year – after all, for such a delicate process he needed a finer point of control of his abilities...

Vernon had stopped banging on the door and continued to bash into it, presumably with something hard like a hammer or axe. Harry narrowed his eyes as the sound grew progressively more annoying, and with a thought the room fell silent once again, aside from the occasional dull thud. "Too bad for you lard ass, that door will stop anything short of a SERIOUSLY overpowered blasting curse," he muttered, slamming his comic shut, feeling the room constricting about now.

Not that it was – the first thing he had done was increase the size of the bedroom to accommodate his growing collection of goods. He literally had boxes and boxes stacked off to the side of everything from action figures to comics to games to electronics to whatever. He had a large LCD screen across from his bed, and hooked into it was a surround sound system and his game consoles, not to mention his DVD player.

Going into his closet, which was now free from Dudley's hand-me-downs and stacked full with designer clothing, naturally all pinched as well, he picked out a nice gray jacket, dark jeans and a blue t-shirt. Slipping on his Chuck Taylors, he opened the window and floated to the ground before walking off.

On his way he passed Dudley and his cronies, who when they saw him quickly backed off and walked in the other direction. This summer, there had been a bit of a power change in the neighbourhood gangs of Surrey – all the boys knew _never_ to mess with Harry Potter. He had made sure of that early on, and was now reaping the rewards of a quiet summer... with the occasional robbery.

Of course, Dudley and his gang had to be taught a personal lesson, one that he made sure was especially painful.

Lisa was waiting for him by their usual place near the playground, and smiled brightly as he approached. "Hey, stranger."

"Babe," he greeted, giving her a hug. "Come on, where do you want to eat?"

She playfully tapped her finger on her chin. "Hmm, let me see... how about that little cafe off the corner of the mall?"

"Sure thing, I like their Panini," Harry commented, taking her arm as they walked.

"_The cloaked fears are returning..." _a voice urged.

Harry stiffened, narrowing his eyes.

Lisa looked up in concern. "What's wrong?" She rubbed her arms and began shivering; it had gotten cold all of a sudden...

"Get behind me!" Harry shouted as the two Dementors came flying towards him, the very air visibly frosting around them, cloaks rippling in the wind. Quickly, a glowing blue aura burst into life around him, and he grabbed firmly onto Lisa's hand, extending the aura to her, and she visibly relaxed, though her eyes widened at the two... things that headed their way!

The Dementors circled around him, but couldn't get in as Harry had extended the aura into the bubble. "These are called Dementors. As you have briefly witnessed, they seem to radiate cold and fear, sucking the very happiness from the air, making you relive your worst memories... until they suck your soul." He smirked. "Fortunately, however, I'm a bit of an expert in Dementor removal."

He had no intention of using a Patronus charm. Harry had always wondered if he could kill an immortal being with his new abilities... now was a chance to find out.

The bubble around him began expanding at a dangerous rate, before suddenly shooting forward, bursting into flames as they hit the two Dementors. The monstrosities gave a screech as the magical fire consumed them, the very air around them howling with tormented souls.

Harry watched with morbid interest as the Dementors began shrivelling up, wrapping into balls as the flames consumed them complete, before with a flash of light there was nothing left of them except their cloaks.

"Interesting," he murmured, walking forward, and picking the cloak up. Like the Dementor, it radiated frost and cold, and more than likely it made the unfortunate victim unnerved and fearful, though not to the point of a full Dementor effect. A box suddenly transfigured itself around the cloak, and with a flash of green fire the box went zipping back to his room in Privet Drive. "Lisa, you okay?"

However the high-maintenance girl just looked at him like he had grown a second head. "What... you..."

"Magic," Harry said simply. "No, really," he added at her annoyed look. "Take a seat, this is going to take some time to explain." And taking a deep breath, Harry willingly committed one of his first blatant rebellions against wizard society.

And it sure as hell felt good.

-A-

"So let me get this straight..." Lisa began. "There's a secret, _magical_ society that co-exists or rather lives underneath our normal, what you call 'muggle' society, who use wands, and is completely insular, self-managed... without our notice?" She shook her head in bewilderment. "That doesn't make any sense. But considering what I saw just now..."

"You believe me," Harry finished for her. "Trust me, it takes some getting used to."  
"But then if they're a secret society, you're going to get into trouble for this aren't you?"

"Your logic is sound," he agreed. "There's an International Statue of Secrecy, except you know how it is with me and rules." At this the two of them laughed. "I couldn't give a toss whether they cared about who I tell or not. The whole place is full of self-righteous bastards anyway; I give them fifty years before the entire society collapses."

"Why's that?" Lisa asked.

"It's like towards the late Roman Republic; the world had changed so much, and Roman society had changed so much that it couldn't cater exclusively to the narrow aspiration of a few. If it wants to survive, it needs to change." Harry smirked. "Whether it wants to or not."

"Harry, you said the whole society use wands... but in that case..."

"Why aren't I? Well it's simple enough." He raised his hand as a dark purplish-blue flame ignited around it. "I'm special."

Lisa simply rolled her eyes at that typical, unassumingly arrogant answer. "So the 'private school in Scotland'…"

"The truth, though not all of it. It's a magic school. An idiotic one, but a magic school nonetheless. Don't really have many friends there. There's this idiotic ginger tosser called Weasley, and an arrogant authority-loving know-it-all beaver called Granger. I used to think they were my best friends, but I don't think they'll like the new Harry – so naturally I think they're authority-loving bigots." Harry yawned.

"That's pretty arrogant," Lisa observed. "Even for you."  
"It's as simple as the difference between black and white." Harry focused on a tree, and it burst into flames. "I am chaos and anarchy. You know what the opposite of that is? Order and society. Simple as that, no grey areas about it. It took the death of a student to realise what order and society bred – incompetence and corruption. They go hand in hand. The thing about chaos? It's fair. It's equal. It makes no discernment." He gave her a smirk, which shifted into a lopsided grin. "Anyway, it's past lunchtime. You wanna grab a bite? I get crazy hungry if I use my magic like that."

Lisa smiled. "Sure thing." But before they got up she gave him a kiss. "That's for saving my life, and my soul, which would've been sucked out if you hadn't been here."

Harry kissed her back. "And that's for being hot." He laughed as she scowled indignantly and smacked his head.

Mentally however he was working in overdrive. Dementors? Here of all places? He didn't believe in coincidences. Something was up. Maybe it was time to pay the wizard world a visit.

-A-

After having lunch, the two managed to catch a bus-ride to London where for an hour or so they simply paced through town, enjoying each other's company as they shopped, made impulse purchases or occasionally pickpocketed out of sheer boredom.

After they separated however Harry headed straight for the Leaky Cauldron, making his way into Diagon Alley. Knowing he wasn't meant to be there, Harry briefly considered disguising himself – but then made the startling revelation that he really did not care who saw him. It didn't matter anyway, he had let his hair grow long this summer, in addition to his new clothes, new glasses and not-so-new attitude he would be unrecognisable.

The first thing he did was head to Flourish and Bott's, where he quickly flicked over the latest newspapers and magazines, and it didn't take a genius to see a connection.

Harry was disgusted. So he was an unstable, mad, attention-seeking brat was he? Well he knew he was now unstable and mad, but, brat he was not, and attention-seeking? Only a little bit. _So Fudge wants to play it this way huh? Well fine by me._  
It would be only two weeks before he went back to Hogwarts. When he did it would be quite the party, but wouldn't do much to quell the media. But the media, the Ministry, the politicians, they were all establishments. The thing about establishments? They could be toppled. All chaos needed was an opening before the storm could break.

And that was the same of his friends. He would _make _them see his point of view. Or else.

Pushing aside his musings for now, Harry figured that since he was in Diagon Alley he might as well get some things, such as his books. They would be the least of his purchases however.

The very first thing he did was head over to Gringotts, where as usual he grabbed as much cash as he could pocket, which was considerable since he had magically-enlarged several pockets. It was useful in a pinch, and in addition to a magically-enlarged duffle bag Harry had committed numerous successful burglaries. The police in Surrey were baffled, as he left no trace and always perfectly covered his footsteps.

The owner of Flourish and Bott's had one of his best days of the summer as Harry proceeded to buy virtually any book on any subject. He had covered the entire seven years of Hogwarts, and he was only getting started, Harry bought books on wizard law, St. Mungo's, wizard mental institutions, duelling, Auror and Cursebreaker textbooks, enchanting, cursing, whatever caught his eye he bought it. He then proceeded from shop to shop, buying any interesting magical knick-knacks he could find, as well as many useful Potions ingredients. Harry was strongly tempted to make a trip into Knockturn Alley but he decided he had more than enough to keep him occupied and resolved to make another visit some other time.

An hour later, Harry was on the bus back to Surrey, looking out to the setting sun in contemplation.

He wasn't an idiot. Something was different. Something had changed. Pieces began to click into place, dice fell perfectly in his mind. And the voices, always there, whispering riddles into his mind, yet always whispering the truth...

Harry laughed, a sound so cold that it frightened several people around him who began to shirk away from the intense young man. Maybe he was becoming mad. But if this was madness, then sanity was highly overrated. Madness was... sobering.

Order. Uniformity. Society. No. Oh, Harry was one for _some_ degree of regulation... after all, humans were pack mammals. A rule set from their primate origins, and he was not one to dispute their genetics. However, to entrust their lives to heartless, Government individuals, to ones in power who abused them for their little political games? He had enough of manipulation in his life.

To simply ignore the truth... ignore _anarchy_, the true nature of things - was denying the truth of liberty and individualism.

Harry paused, closing his eyes as he soaked in his revelation, whispering quietly. "Introduce anarchy, throw in a little chaos..." he smiled darkly. "Cut the strings of the puppet masters... and watch their beloved chess game fall to pieces."

But he needed help. Allies.

The first one he thought of was Hermione, but he needed her to realise the truth. To see those in authority for what they really were, something impossible by a little pep-talk considering her love for authority.

No. He needed her to see her own beloved authority destroy her... and make her as mad as he was.

-A-

Hermione yawned as golden rays of light filtered through to her bed. Her alarm had been going off, but she had been so sleepy from her study last night it had taken a while to rouse her. Too bad, the high pitched chirping usually woke her up...

Wait, high-pitched chirping?  
The witch turned. "Hedwig!" she bolted upright immediately. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I must've slept in!" Sure enough, in her tiredness she had thrown her alarm clock off her bedside table and it lay broken underneath her. Hermione frantically scrambled to her desk, and pulled out a treat, giving it to Hedwig as it hooted indignantly and gave her an annoyed peck before dropping the package.

Hermione grabbed the letter accompanying it, eager to read Harry's next letter.

Remarkably his handwriting had made drastic improvements since his last one, and Hermione found it easier to read:

_Dear Hermione_

_That's great, I'm sure you had a lovely time. You need to tell me all about it. What are you going to do for the remainder of the summer? _

_Listen, I need to thank you for all your help last year in the Triwizard Tournament. Without you, I would've been completely lost, and completely backwashed by those in authority. I feel as if I've been manipulated by them my entire life, and it's nice to know you've got my back. You really are one of my best friends._

_Because of that, in the package is a little gift._

_All my love, _

_Harry_

She blushed at the more... intimate nature of the letter, before scowling at his blatant dismissal of authority. Hermione quickly grabbed a pen and began scribbling out a reply, admonishing him for his discontent – after all, there was a reason they were in authority, and it wasn't like they could do everything at once! She hesitated a moment however – she desperately wanted to tell him all about the Order of the Phoenix and about being at Grimmauld Place, but instead settled to say that she was at home getting ready for OWL year. There must have been a reason Professor Dumbledore told them not to tell him, and he _did _have Harry's best interests in mind after all.

Hermione ripped open the package, curious to what he would send and gasped. "Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have!" she blushed slightly, as she lifted up the sparkling diamond bracelet. Briefly Hermione held it up to the light and watched as it glowed luminously. _Real diamonds! Harry, you..._

Deeply flattered, she slipped it on, not noticing the diamonds taking on a slightly menacing green smoulder.

-A-

"Boy, where have you been?" Vernon growled as Harry strolled in through the front door. "Those freaks have been hounding us all day! And not to mention you've been bloody driving us to our wits' ends!"  
Harry had noticed from the moment he walked in that Vernon surreptitiously had his shotgun within easy reach behind the couch. The man could easily whip in and grab it while his back was turned. He turned around, and when Dudley saw him he whimpered and ran up to his room. _Huh. So piggy's gone squealing to daddy huh?_

"I knew from the moment you set foot in this house you were no good!" Vernon thundered. "And now, this is the last straw! Beating on our poor Dudders, then hanging... hanging him from... bullying him!"

_Figures he wouldn't say it. _"Fatty, your whale of a son had it coming." Harry sniff pompously, crossing his arms. "For a boxer with a reasonable amateur career, he wasn't much of a challenge."

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?" Vernon growled, grabbing his shotgun – but Harry had already darted forward, whipping it from him in one seamless motion and aiming it right back at him.

"Martial arts lessons," the anarchist stated by way of explanation. "Your kid should know, I've practised on him a little. Had them all summer. He really needs to keep up with his workouts, he's more blubber than muscle. Too bad for him, coach says I'm a _very_ quick learner." What Vernon or Dudley didn't know is that Harry had learnt how to enhance reflex and muscle with magic. Needless to say Dudley or any other neighbourhood boys for that matter hadn't had a very good summer. "You annoy me. I should kill you right now, and the rest of your family, and it wouldn't bother me a bit. But I'm going to give you a chance, more than you ever gave me." Effortlessly Harry disassembled the shotgun, tossing the parts away. "Leave me alone for the rest of this summer, and the next summer. After that, I'm out of your hair. I don't bloody care what you do with the rest of the time. But I expect you to feed me whenever I want. Otherwise you'll just learn how _unnatural_ I really am." Harry smirked coldly as the home ware began levitating around him.

Vernon was spluttering in indignation, his face a deep purple puce as he stumbled back slightly in shock. "Do you really think you can threaten me?"

"I already am, and it looks like I'm succeeding." In truth Harry had decided the family's fate this very morning. He wouldn't kill them, but there were things a lot worse than death. For a vain family like the Dursleys, it was a ruined reputation, and he would certainly do a lot more than that. "I'm going to go up to my room. The deal starts now."

Harry smirked as he flopped onto his bed, content with a day's work. He glanced at his watch before picking up his controller for the next level of Call of Duty.

-A-

"_Hermione..."_

"_Hermione..."  
"We're here for you..."  
"All for you..."_

"_We're your only friends..."_

Hermione burst into her room, tears falling down her cheeks as she slammed the door shut. She couldn't TAKE it anymore! "Who are you? What do you want?" she screamed in desperation.

The voices had started out as a murmur at first, and now they had gradually escalated. Hermione had thought it was just the result of a dark artefact or some curse... but when she had asked Sirius to cast some dark magic detection spells on her he had found nothing.

_NO! THIS HAS TO BE MAGIC! _Hermione mentally screamed. She slid across her bed, grabbing her ears, trying to block them out. She couldn't possibly consider the _other_ option...

"_Don't try to stop us Hermione..." _A male voice soothed.

"_We're only here to help..." _Another supplied.

"_After all..." _

"_You're just as mad as he is..."_

Hermione shrieked in horror, recoiling as a bloodied man suddenly appeared in the room, holding out an arm towards her. "GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY!"

Quick as a flash Remus and Moody had bolted up. "What's wrong Hermione? What is it?"

She only gave them a momentary glance before turning back... but the man was gone... "I don't understand... there was a man here. A man, not a ghost, and he w-w-was..."  
Moody cast a few detection spells around the area. "Remus, we'd better get back to Dumbledore immediately, if the wards have been breached..."  
"You're being too paranoid Alastor!" Remus scolded, patting Hermione comfortingly on the arm. "There's no way anyone could get in, Dumbledore put them up himself. I think it's just nerves. It's summer, you've been studying too hard. Take a break for a few days Hermione, even you study too hard sometimes."

Hermione sagged. "You're probably right, Professor. I'm going to bed now I guess."  
"I'm telling you Remus this is a bad idea! If the wards have been breached..."

"It's Remus now Hermione," Lupin said as he guided Moody out of the room, closing it behind her. "I'm telling you Alastor..."

Hermione fell onto the bed, rubbing her eyes. It was true, she had been a bit tired lately, but that man looked _so real..._

"_He was real..."_

"_As real as you are..."_

"No," she whispered in self-denial. "He was just a figment of my imagination. I'm not crazy. I'm just tired..."

"_Keep telling yourself..."_

"_You might believe it..."  
"We're real, and we're here to stay..."_

The whispers began filling her mind even more loudly as Hermione whitened, burying her head in her pillow.

She refused to think she had already started on the path to insanity, to madness. She was just tired and hallucinating. Nothing at all to it.

Just because the first sign of madness was talking to herself didn't mean that she was mad. They would go away, and she would be back to normal.

In a room far away in Privet Drive, Harry smirked as he placed one domino on the table.


	3. Chapter 3

As Harry had promised, though he didn't kill his _lovely_ relatives he did his utmost to make them wish they were dead. The rest of the summer was absolute chaos for the Dursley family, and helped Harry hone his skills in dealing with people – specifically, their weaknesses, and how far they could be pushed before breaking.

It had started out simply enough – vandalism, stealing, tormenting the tormentors – but he knew that wasn't enough. It wasn't hurting the Dursleys, it was only hurting his own reputation, not that he really cared, among the adults.

However among the teenagers and youths, Harry was a living legend. He did what he wanted, got away with what he wanted, and everybody knew not to mess with him or there would be dire consequences.

Among the girls, Lisa was the most popular and the most beautiful. Dressed in clothes too expensive even for her parents, seemingly brimming with overflowing cash, not to mention a few 'magical' tricks here and there, she was uncontested on the neighbourhood food chain. With Harry, they were unstoppable and untouchable – the perfect golden couple.

Harry was not satisfied with this though. He wanted to _decimate _the perfect little bubble of not just the youths, but also the adults, their gossip mongering, scandals, petty feuds, jealousy, especially around the Dursleys.

Subtly he used his skills to tip things in his favour. Create affairs that weren't there, frame people he didn't like, start vicious rumours that were completely untrue yet not too much of a stretch – his web of lies was so exquisitely forged it was beautiful, and it would lead back to Petunia.

In order to completely destroy the Dursleys however, he made it seem as if they had trained him into their own little weapon. Petunia had a short row with someone a block away, and he beat up their son so brutally the boy was sent to hospital, and he made sure the blame fell mainly on his Aunt, as if she had been the one to order him to do it. He did things like this repeatedly, to the point where she was looked upon with suspicion and mistrust, and it would only be a matter of time before the suspicion reached boiling point.

And so, towards the end of the summer Harry found himself sitting on a beach, ogling Lisa's butt in a bikini while he sipped on a crisp cold lemon vodka. So what if he was only fifteen? Old enough to kill a Dark Lord, old enough to drink.

"Stop staring, you perv!" Lisa scolded, slapping him on the head as she walked back to their spot and grabbed her towel, drying her wet hair.

Harry snorted. "When you're dressed like that, how could I _not_?"

Knowing that it would lead to yet another verbal spar she was unlikely to win, Lisa instead ignored his comment and flopped down beside him, slipping on her designer sunglasses.

They relaxed in silence for a few minutes before Harry once again spoke. "I'm going to have to go to school soon."

"So do I. It's a private boarding school as well – though not quite anything like yours."

He smirked. "Don't worry. I'll make sure to drop in for a visit from time to time."

"You'd better." She hesitated for a moment. "Harry?"

At the sudden change in her tone of voice, he turned around, dipping his sunglasses. "What's up?"

"About us… is there an us? I mean, where do we stand exactly?"

He sighed. "Honestly? I think you know me better than that."  
"I do." She sat up. "You won't ever have a long-term relationship, will you?"

"Depends on how you define 'relationship'." He answered. "But in your terms, I don't think I ever will. I don't think it's my destiny to ever marry or completely love a single person, knowing the world is this big and my part in it will be just as big, if not more."

She frowned. "I thought you hate the thought of destiny."

"Only the idea of a destiny we can't control. A self-made destiny however?" He grinned. "I'm all for that."

"So this is goodbye then." Lisa sighed.

"Only for now. What am I, some guy who uses people and casts them aside? Well… I am that, but no way for you. You invested time and effort in me, gave me your allegiance, became my partner in crime. I always pay my debts, and trust me, when I pay you back, it'll be more than tenfold." He smirked once more. "I mean in the good way, of course. No games, no wordplay, no puppet strings. Anarchy always pays what it's owed… whether for good or bad is up to you and you're fully in the former."

-A-

Harry had already finished packing all his things into a trunk that had been fully expanded into a room that had been heavily secured. He undid the magic on his own room, so that it was just as it had been before the summer, and was ready to go.

Dressed in a set of designer clothing, Harry finished the look with his sunglasses as he turned around to view Privet Drive one more time.

Though the place looked the same, the damage had been done and worse was yet to come. Vernon Dursley would soon be charged with embezzlement and fraud, courtesy of yours truly, and to be frank it didn't matter if it was true or not, the Dursleys would forever be looked upon with mistrust and almost outright hostility. With Petunia's ruined reputation, the Dursleys were finished in Surrey.

Every aspect of their power was broken. In time, this would culminate in outright physical destruction of some manner, but Harry didn't need to see it. Their relatives feared him and what he could do, and though they would breathe a sigh of satisfaction when he left, it would be short-lived.

He had already decided not to ever return. If he did however, he would burn not just the whole house, but the whole neighbourhood, down.

However as Harry stepped out, he froze in surprise as he felt a long thin stick of wood poked into his back.

"What was the name of your first Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" A voice gruffly demanded.

Harry smirked. "Quirrell, and he had Voldemort stuck in the back of his head. Good evening, Moody."

Seemingly stepping out of thin air, the ex-Auror lowered his wand. "It's him. We're in the clear."

Harry turned around and watched as a group of people, some unfamiliar, some familiar, stepped out from under their invisibility cloaks. "Security detail?" He raised an eyebrow. Truthfully he had known about them, and had taken advantage of them underestimating him to easily slip out underneath their noses whenever he pleased. Not very competent for a guard detail, but then again, he doubted they were really putting any serious effort in, aside from perhaps Moody. That was the problem with hiring amateurs, after all.

"Aye," Mad-Eye affirmed. "Had to keep an eye on you in case the Death Eaters tried anything."

"Makes sense. Hey, Remus," Harry greeted his old teacher. "You're looking tired. What's up?"

The werewolf sighed. "Not here, Harry. Come on, we need to get him back to HQ."

"Grab your broomstick, Potter."

-A-

"Sirius!" Harry gave his godfather a strong hug as soon as they were through into the living room.

"Oomph!" the man grunted, staggering back with a laugh. "Looks like you've shot up quite a bit since we last saw each other. And grown a bit more muscle."

"And you're looking better as well." Harry pointed out, genuinely glad to see him.

"Well with Mrs Weasley's cooking…"

"Wait, the Weasleys are here?"

"They were a part of the Order in the first war," Sirius answered. "Come on, you've probably had a long trip. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, why don't you go surprise them?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Sirius' slightly hesitant demeanour, as if he was up to something. Of all the people in this screwed up magical society, he didn't expect his own godfather of all people to be like them. Then again, it wasn't like Sirius had much weight at this stage, being a runaway convict at all. "Alright, I'll go see them."

Harry had pondered on who would accept his new… outlook. Some people like Hermione he couldn't live without, thus he had taken measures to ensure that they could see things from his perspective. Others, like Ron… served little purpose and he frankly cared nothing for him.

He had eventually decided to do what he would do anyway. Those who chose to go on his side would be welcome and he would look out for… the others could piss off.

Harry walked up the stairs, glancing towards the living room as it began to fill with people. So, this was the Order of the Phoenix? He wasn't that impressed. _Looks more like a social gathering than a vigilante organisation. It's certainly no Justice League, that's for sure._

"Harry! You're here! Everyone, Harry's finally got here!" Ginny had been clearly walking back to her room, before noticing him in complete surprise.

_Way to be subtle Ginny_. He narrowed his eyes, watching how her posture had completely changed and shifted when she noticed his presence, and not just from surprise.

No surprises that little Gin-Gin hadn't gotten over her crush. If it was prodded in the right direction however… it could be useful.

"Harry! Mate, welcome back!" Ron smacked his shoulder in greeting. Was it just him, or did Ron look a bit… dirtier than usual?

He plastered a grin on his face. "Hey Ron – where's Hermione at?"

The redhead shrugged. "Dunno. She's been acting a bit funny, to be honest. Hasn't really come out of her room lately. Pretty weird, eh? Bet she's trying to do all the year's work." He snorted at his own joke.  
"Yeah. I thought she'd be the first to meet me," Harry stated. _And here the idiocy of wizards is proven. No less personified than in dear old Ronald, though one could claim his general ineptitude a distinct trait. _"I'll go up to see her."

"Ah come on, Fred and George are just down the hallway! They're having an Order meeting now, and we're going to try and listen in on them!"

"You go on, I'll just quickly say hi to Hermione," Harry said, watching as the boy ran off with nothing less than disgust. _If there was ever a bad combination… not an ounce of common sense combined with so many foul stereotypes of wizard society poured into his head… _he shook his thoughts away.

Though the redheaded idiot hadn't bothered to tell him where her room was it was relatively easy to find considering it was the only room that had multiple locking charms as well as a silencing charm on it. He raised a finger and gently tapped it, watching as the lock gave off a brief flash before it clicked open.

Harry stepped in, looking around the room as he closed the door behind him, choosing to keep the silencing charm on for privacy reasons. "Hello? Hermione?"

The murmur of the voices grew progressively louder in his head before a high-pitched scream erupted and he was pushed to the ground, hitting it with a grunt as he turned around – it had taken a conscious effort not to automatically react and throw her off before she tightened her grip on his neck.

Hermione looked terrible. Her bushy hair lacked its typical healthy sheen, her skin was gaunt and pale, and it looked like she had lost weight. She was also currently threatening him with her wand. "You can't fool me!" She spat hatefully. "I know it's you! You're just pretending to be Harry!"

_She's progressing much faster than I thought. This is… good. _"Hermione! I swear! It's me! What are you talking about?" He protested, waving his hands frantically.

"Shut your filthy mouth!" Hermione hissed, pointing it at his throat. "I've learnt plenty of new spells that I can't wait to test on a willing volunteer."

"Hermione… it is me. Don't you remember? I rescued you from the Troll in our first year when Ron made you cry! Don't you remember how long we spent in the library together during our preparations for the Tournament? Even without Ron?" Harry questioned with a wry grin, completely calm.

Hermione was breathing heavily, her grip on her wand tightening as she scanned his face desperately for any deception. She started shaking, before slumping down, closing her eyes wearily.

Harry stood up, looking around her room, which was shabby and run-down, completely unlike the girl who he knew was neat and organised. Tome upon tome were stacked on her desk, and he could feel the oppressive, seductive energies of dark magic surrounding the stacks.

_Not bad, Hermione. At this rate you'll easily grow into your potential._

He stood up, looking through her books – though many were clearly from the Black library there was also a great variety of 'muggle' textbooks, detailing a great variety of subjects from psychology to physics, chemistry, electronics, heck, there was even some books on forensics and criminology.

They covered every imaginable subject, and Harry was certain it stemmed from the voices he had created for her.

The voices he created were actually modelled or copied from the personalities of certain voices of his own – an elderly gentleman who spoke in a cold, grim tone, who was intellectual and authoritative on the sciences especially in relation to law enforcement and human psychology, a middle-aged, world-weary man who had clearly been part of a special ops group, and a cultured wizard who, from his choice of words came from the medieval period.

That was his guess, anyway. For all he knew, he could be wrong, and the voices were all part of one collective entity. Of what entity, however, he would never know.

"I-I'm sorry, Harry…" Hermione shook her head, as if to clear it from the intruding presences. "Something…"

"What is it Hermione?"

She sighed. "Nothing…"

He closed his eyes, rubbing the spot where she had hit him. "Boy, you sure do hit hard Hermione," he said jokingly, easing the tension as she relaxed, slumping against his form.

But Hermione wasn't listening; she was, once again, distant. Even with her posture seemingly relaxed her eyes remained alert, flicking from side to side, as if scanning for unknown enemies or looking for invisible ghosts. The paranoia she must have been experiencing was unbelievable and was clearly escalating until she snapped. Harry was impressed by her mental strength.

Coupled with nightmares, stress, hunger and insomnia, he had snapped within the first day. And was much better for it.

Harry stood up. "Come on Hermione, let's go see what the twins are up to," he said cheerfully, pulling her along, despite her weak protests.

Secretly however, he was pleased. She was coming along very nicely.

Maybe it was time to give her a… _gift_ to help her along.

-A-

At dinner, Harry scowled as he read through the Daily Prophet – as usual, the headlines were condemning him as a liar. "It's not just me, is it? Dumbledore's getting undermined as well."

"That's right," Remus answered with a sigh as he cut up his steak. "Fudge is getting paranoid – he's completely denying any possibility of Voldemort's return. Dumbledore's currently fighting tooth and nail to get him to reconsider."

Sirius snorted. "No way Fudge would 'reconsider'. It'd be a political nightmare, and he hasn't the guts to deal with war. He'd be ousted faster than you can say 'Quidditch'."

"That's on the surface," Hermione stated quietly. "At the heart of it all, he's afraid."

_Of Voldemort? Of Dumbledore? _Harry thought, lips curling upwards in a slight smirk. _Or of… me? _

His godfather nodded. "Good deduction Hermione," Sirius praised. "You're right of course – Fudge is secretly afraid, whether of the political ramifications or of Voldemort, that's anyone's guess."

"_They fear what they do not understand," _a voice hissed. _"Without understanding, the enemies seem invincible."_

Harry closed his eyes and filtered out the white noise as that came to the forefront of his mind. Fear of the unknown was power, more powerful than a feared, yet known element.

But at the same time fear was… useful. He himself did not understand the transformation he was undergoing, and was afraid of it. However, by acknowledging the fear and accepting it… he overcame it. He did not fear dying.

Something was happening to him. While he could see through his emerald green eyes, and could taste the staleness in the air, and could feel the coldness of the eating utensils, he did not _feel_, not as deeply as he should have. There was an apathy that had formed in him, and it made him want to laugh. He simply wanted to win, whatever the cost, whether for the sake of flaunting his superiority or the humour at destroying the miserable schemes of the manipulators, he would never know. Or maybe he would do so for the sake of sheer boredom.

Harry could feel the power in him blossoming like a flower, growing from its seed, as he came to this realisation. Gears clicked in his mind, and plans began to form as he leant back, excusing himself from the meal.

Up in his room, he pulled the Dementor's cloak that he had taken, brushing his fingers over the fabric, barely wincing or withdrawing as frost formed on them.

Harry admired the beauty of it. It seemed to absorb the ambient light, yet shimmered as if it created its own internal radiance. He raised it, and the further away he drew it, the darker it got, as if it was gradually becoming obscured by shadows. Tendrils of darkness seemed to twist and thin around the edges, and Harry realised that it was… _alive_. He put his hand over it and extended some energy, feeling the individual magical threads and layers all woven together tightly like a real organic skin, the vibrancy of the cold energy, the sheer rawness of its magical force. If he looked at it properly…

He took off his glasses, and closed his eyes, channelling some power through them.

"Aghh!" Harry grunted, wincing in pain as he dropped the cloak, feeling excruciating white heat shooting through his eye balls. He opened them again, and quickly conjured some water, splashing it in his eyes and rubbing delicately.

It took ten minutes for him to regain his vision, and another ten for his vision to fully clear. He put on his glasses, cursing himself for coming up with such a stupid idea. The eyes tissues were incredibly delicate, and he had no idea how to weave the threads of magic together well enough to create magical vision. _I thought my control had gotten better… it seems I still have some ways to go._

-A-

The next few days went by in a rush. Harry had sneaked out many of the Black library's books on magic and dark magic, and had delved into them, learning about the very nature of magic and dark magic. He had learnt many old, arcane runes, and sinister methods of manipulating magic. These helped him in turn, though using a wand seemed nigh useless.

That was another thing. His wand no longer responded to him. Whenever he gripped it, it seemed as if it… repelled him. Was it because he was turning dark? _But Voldemort's wand had a phoenix feather core, and even that still continued to work for him. _

He had no doubt if he used it, it would not work or explode in his hand. It didn't matter in the end, anyway. He didn't need it anymore. Harry had instead wrapped magic around the handle, so that anyone other than him tried to touch it, they would get a nasty surprise.

Soon enough, they had said their goodbyes and he found himself on the train, sitting with Ginny and Neville and a strange, but very pretty blonde girl reading a magazine upside down.

"How was your holiday Nev?" Harry asked casually, staring out the window.

Neville shirked. Harry had been dressed in his designer jacket, dark blue jeans and wearing his Ray-Bans, and in addition to his confident aura, he must have been intimidating to the poor boy. "Um… it was really good Harry…"

Harry laughed and turned around, dipping his sunglasses so they established eye contact. "Relax Neville, I'm not going to bite. Let's just say I've undergone a bit of a… makeover," Harry stated with a grin. "I'm not going to take stick from anyone."

Neville seemed to relax a bit, but with the boy it was hard to tell. "That's good…"

There was a short silence before Harry spoke again. He had recalled his memories of the boy, and seen the untapped strength in him. It simply needed to find a way out – to find a calling. "Nev… you know what the papers are saying about me, right?"

"You… you want to ask if I believe that You-Know-Who's back." Neville said hesitantly.

Harry nodded.

"I think that… you're telling the truth," Neville said with surprising conviction. "You're the boy-who-lived for Merlin's sake! You've faced him several times and lived to tell the tale! If anyone would know, it'd be you!"

_Wow, I'm amazed by the amount of fire in his voice. It's a shame that no one believed in him. He could do much better than just being a Herbologist. _Harry grinned. "Thanks for believing me, Neville." He looked out the window once more his mind distant. "You know… once this whole shambles is over and You-Know-Who really does show himself – I'd be glad to have you fighting with me."

The shock at that statement caused Neville to nearly drop the plant he was holding. "H-Harry you can't be serious? I can't even use a stunning curse correctly!"

Even Ginny, sitting beside him, was surprised, though she did not stop staring at Harry, her eyes roaming up and down his body. It was starting to make him uncomfortable considering she had been doing that the entire trip.

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry Neville. When Hogwarts comes around you should study with Hermione and me. By the end of the year, we'll make you a force to be reckoned with."

"Surely not a book-reading force," Ginny interjected jokingly, though it fell on deaf ears, as Neville was deep in thought and Harry was waiting for him to say something.

He could become powerful. The voices all spoke as one now, and they urged him to assuage Neville into his circle of close friends, in constant repetition to the point where their urgings became irritating. Why had he not seen it? The intense inner strength, just begging to find an output? Though he could see it now, plain as day… the boy needed to see it in himself.

"I think that I'd like that…" Neville said with a small smile.

-A-

Once again in the carriage, Harry found himself travelling with a motley crew consisting of Ginny, Neville, the interesting blonde girl, as well as Ron and Hermione. Hermione was sitting beside him, and she was frowning at his choice of companions.

Hermione leaned in. "Harry… do you know who she is?" she hissed in a conspiratorial whisper.

He shrugged.

"You know they call her…"

"It's not very nice to talk about other people, you know," the girl said, lowering her magazine in a dreamy voice.

Hermione raised her voice. "Loony Lovegood," she said strongly, staring her down, as if daring her to cross it.

_The first stage is always denial, isn't it Hermione? _Harry mused. _To be so outright antagonistic towards someone some consider a loon… almost as if you want to disguise the fact you're a loon yourself._

"Actually, that's not quite right, my name's Luna Lovegood," the girl introduced herself. "It's a common misconception I'm afraid."

Harry grinned. Now here was a girl who knew how not to get too down. "That's fine. People common mix my name with 'Harry Plotter', after all."

"Really?" The girl stared at him curiously. "How very odd."

She reminded him of a fae. Or what he would consider a fae would look like. Or an elf (not a house elf mind you). Maybe a pixie half-blood? With those wide, silvery eyes and elfin features, as well as her strange attire, maybe she was a level fifty elf enchantress in disguise. Harry nearly snorted at his internal joke. He really needed to stop playing RPGs.

Nevertheless, Harry already liked her. And the voices liked her too, already whispering what they thought of this girl, so that was a point in her favour.

Currently she was staring at him, as if trying to decipher him like a puzzle. However he wasn't some simpleton Gryffindor who betrayed everything through his body language. Harry met her challenge with amusement, already finding her fascinating. And she had only said two things to him so far. "Luna…" he said, testing her name in his mouth. "It's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"Oh…" Luna slightly ducked her gaze, fiddling with her butterbeer cap necklace, before looking back up, regaining the dreamy look in her eyes again. It was so quick he doubted anyone but himself would have noticed. "That's very nice of you to say Harry. Would you like me to make you a necklace as well? I would hate for the nargles to get you as well."

Hermione and Ron looked at him like he had grown a second head. Neville was confused, and Ginny was throwing a clear look of jealousy at Luna. _I bet she was surprised by that. No one expects the 'Boy-who-lived' to flirt or compliment someone everyone thinks is loony – and actually mean it._

Harry however simply grinned, adding a hint of his usual menace to it. "That won't be necessary Luna. After all… the nargles know who to be afraid of." Despite the statement being made about seemingly imaginary creatures… the way he said it sent shivers down everyone's spines - whether for good or for bad however, they did not know.

-A-

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore announced from his position at the head table. "To new students: welcome! And to returning students: welcome back! Now before dinner starts, I would like to make a couple of short announcements. Firstly, Professor Grubbly-Plank has temporarily taken up the position of Care of Magical Creatures while Professor Hagrid is on leave. Second, I would like to welcome our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Dolores Umbridge."

Harry frowned. _She looks like a pink, pug-faced toad. _His nose wrinkled. _Ewww. Oh, that reminds me, I really need to try frogs' legs with Lisa when we eventually visit France… _

"Now…"

"_Hem-hem!"_

Dumbledore turned around in slight surprise as Umbridge stepped up. He gave a courteous smile, and sat down, looking as if he was completely attentive to what she was saying. _Manipulative old bureaucrats. _He recognised that look in the toad's eyes – _she must be a_ _politician, here on Fudge's orders. _"Don't bother listening," Harry murmured to Hermione, who turned to him in surprise. "It's just a bunch of political junk. Bottom of the line is that she's likely here on Fudge's orders, and he wants to interfere in Hogwarts."

Her eyes narrowed. "How can they do this?" she hissed back. "The Ministry has no right…"

"Clearly doesn't matter. We're talking about Fudge after all. He resembles his name, ironically…" Harry snorted. "Since you always want more."

Hermione scrutinised her friend for a bit, before laughing quietly at his dry joke.

At the end of the dinner, Harry followed Hermione and Ron as they led the students to the Gryffindor dorms, ignoring the stares he was receiving.

He had filled out quite significantly, and with his…shenanigans in Surrey, Harry knew how to create intimidation and how to make someone respect you just from your posture.

He was completely relaxed, hands in his pockets, posture strong and confident, lightning bolt scar bared for all to see as he had parted his hair instead of covering it. After all, why should he be afraid of what he had done? Harry held no regrets.

Reclining on one of the sofas, Harry was completely relaxed. Sure it wasn't as good as his bed back home, and he missed playing video games and reading comic books all day, but a good sofa was a good sofa. Maybe he should learn how to transform into an animal, except Transfiguration was still difficult. But it would be nice to snooze on the sofa as a cat…

"You know, me mum wanted to pull me out of Hogwarts this year."

Harry mentally groaned. Couldn't a guy get a nice nana nap around here? He looked up, and, seeing it was Seamus Finnegan, closed his eyes again. "Good for you."

"Oi! Look at me when I'm talking!" Seamus snapped, grabbing his shoulder and attempting to pull him up.

Harry shoved him off, however, sitting up on his own. "Yes, we get it," he said sarcastically. "The Prophet says I'm a liar, blah, blah, blah. Let's all believe the _Ministry-sponsored_ propaganda machine! After all, because a newspaper said it, it must be true… right?" Harry asked, his voice rising slightly at the end to make it sound cynically innocent. "Clearly so. After all, they've _always _been right before." Normally he would've left it there, after a few more sarcastic words. However Harry was feeling particularly vindictive tonight and everybody was watching them. Not to mention the dolt had spoilt a perfectly good nap. "Your mother is morbidly corpulent and mentally deficient." Harry stated in a deadpan tone.

Seamus looked confused, as did the rest of the room, especially at the sudden change in conversation. "Wait, what?"

He smirked. "Don't know what it means? That's not surprising, considering it must run in the genes." Seeing that Seamus still didn't get it, Harry sighed in annoyance. "I just said your mother was fat and an idiot, and that she gave birth to an idiot son!"

"Who are you calling an idiot Potter?" Seamus growled. The burly teenager began to step threateningly towards him.

"Hey! What's going on here?" Ron demanded, jumping in between them.

"He just called my mother fat and an idiot!" Seamus shouted angrily, attempting to move past him.

"Don't forget you're also an idiot as well," Harry corrected.

By now the whole room of Gryffindors were gaping at Harry's audacity.

"Yeah? Well you're a filthy liar!"

"Better than having a fat and stupid mother."

"You watch yourself; I am this close to beating your face in!"

"Who taught you to make empty and useless threats? Your mother?"

"Just because you're the bloody Boy-Who-Lived doesn't mean you can do whatever you want!"

"What's being the Boy-Who-Lived got to do with the fact your mother is fat and stupid?"

"THAT'S IT!" Seamus roared. He jumped past Ron, and attempted to land an uppercut and a cross, though Harry easily evaded them.

"You fight like a granny! Let me guess, your _mother_ taught you?"

"AGHH!"

Some of the older boys tried to restrain Seamus but he was too enraged to think clearly. Harry pushed Ron away, and smirked as the Irish teenager came into range.

Swiftly he sidestepped Seamus' wild jab, waiting until he passed before grabbing his arm and pulling him off balance. He deftly landed a right cross to Seamus' ribs and kicked in the back of his knee, throwing him onto the ground.

"Well that was fun," Harry said, dusting his hands off. He glanced around the wide-eyed room. "Oh yes. This is the part where I tell you that the Daily Prophet is wrong and he's really back and all that, but then again, Gryffindors apparently don't think so it won't matter…" he paused. "Only joking, of course. You're an idiot if you think the Daily Prophet is always right, and you're an even bigger idiot if you think that he isn't back. Because news flash, he is. Have you never watched an anime? The villain always comes back from the dead in order to instigate ludicrous 'world domination' schemes and all that."

With that, Harry turned around and headed up to his bed, raising his hand in a lazy wave. "Oh yeah, as you can see, I don't take too kindly to being called a liar. Okay, later!"

-A- A/N: So I'm back for a bit. Not really getting into the whole fanfiction thing anymore. Will probably try to update stories as long as possible, to the point of finishing before leaving it. Also, for this fic, expect Harry to randomly make pop culture references and emulate moves that he thinks are cool. Cos he's boss like that. 


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning many of the Gryffindor students gave Harry a considerable berth. Seamus was still glaring at him, though he was wincing every time he tried to move, touching his ribs tenderly.

In fact, among the dark looks he continued to receive who thought that this was confirmation of the Daily Prophet's, there was a growing number of looks of awe and astonishment. Neville stared at him like he was Merlin reincarnate, Hermione still seemed to be scrutinising him, and Ron and the twins had simply clapped him on the back and congratulated him on a good job.

By breakfast, word had spread around the other Houses of what he had done, and combined with his 'growth spurt' and confident aura, he had started to make a bit of a name for himself, above the simple 'liar' and 'boy-who-lived' titles.

However Harry himself carried on like it was a normal day as they received their schedules. "Well, well, well," he said with a chuckle, finishing up his strip of bacon. Ah, bacon… who doesn't love it? "Looks like we've got _'Professor Umbridge'_…" he said her name in an exaggerated caricature of her sickly sweet voice, causing many of the students around them to laugh. "First up. Then a break, then Potions with the Slytherins. Looks like this day is going to be fun."

"Mate… I really hope you're joking," Ron said incredulously before chomping down on his sausages one by one.

Harry winced at his idea of table manners. "Not at all. It really is going to fun… as in for me." He gave a cheeky grin. "Not, however, for the teachers."

The twins looked at him with awe, jumping to the opposite sides of him.

"Harry mate…"

"You really are…"

"A man after…"

"Our own hearts!" They declared unabashedly, slapping their chests.

"Harry…" Hermione interrupted quietly. "Are you sure it's a good idea to antagonise the teachers? Especially when… you know…"

"That's exactly the reason why it's the best idea to antagonise them!" He answered cheerfully. _I thought she'd be shouting at me and demanding I apologise. She's changed so much in a short time already. Especially when she's seriously becoming unhinged… _"And besides, I love my dad. Heard he even got a record number of detentions. I'm sure he'd want me to do the same." _Doesn't mean I have to go to any detentions._

The twins were taking all this in with a clear amount of pride in their eyes, giving each other a slap on the back and a handshake. "Looks like we've taught him well, Forge."

"Indeed we have, Gred!"

-A-

"Good morning, class!" Umbridge said in her sickly-sweet tone, as she approached the front of the classroom. She waited for the replies but when all she got were half-hearted murmurs, "now that won't do now will it? Please reply 'Good morning Professor Umbridge'!"

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," the class intoned monotonously.

"That's better! Now wands away and quills out please!"

Now that Harry had a closer view of the woman… she really did look like a toad.

"You are all in Fifth Year… so it is now time for your Ordinary Wizarding Levels! Better known as O.W.L.s!" Umbridge said. "If you want to pass… you must study hard and do your homework! And in order to do so, you must have textbooks to study from!"

_Okay, she's really starting to get on my nerves. She speaks to us like we're a bunch of thick-headed pre-school kids. Guess my instincts were right on this one – Umbridge is clearly an idiot. Probably one that got kicked out of Death Eater academy no less._

He quickly flicked through the textbook that was being handed out. _'Defensive Magical Theory: Basics for Beginners'? Is she really that idiotic? _

"Please begin reading chapter one and making adequate notes! There will be no talking as you do so, please!"

Since Umbridge wasn't looking in his direction, Harry decided that the book would instead be his new scrapbook. Taking out his quill, he opened it up and started doodling over all the pictures. In a minute he had already turned the picture of a man gripping a wand into a – well, you can probably guess.

After a good deal of time had passed, Hermione piped up. "Professor?"

"Please raise your hand when you're about to speak!" Umbridge snapped.

With that Hermione raised her hand with a stubborn look on her face, and in a minute the toad pointed at her. "Yes, Miss..."

"Granger, ma'am. Excuse me but… what's the relevance of this text?"

Umbridge looked at her in surprise. "I'm… afraid I don't understand your question. The textbook is your prescribed text for the entirety of this…"

"Yes, that's exactly the point. This textbook is completely inappropriate for a Fifth Year course! Especially since there's no portion on practical…"  
"Practical?" If at all possible, Umbridge's voice had become even more high-pitched. "Why on earth would you need to _practise_ defensive magic? If you study the theory, you'll pass just fine!"

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione almost yelled, slamming her book in anger. "We need to be prepared!"

"Prepared… prepared for what?"

"For VOLDEMORT!"

Many in the class winced as she said his name, prompting Harry to roll his eyes though on the inside he was impressed at her nerve. The old Hermione would have never done that. She was clearly starting to stir from her sleep, the pleasant dream that everything was as it seemed.

The first step began with knowledge, the _right _knowledge, which Harry himself had provided in term of her… mentors, leading to the realisation that there were discrepancies. Gaps. Strange occurrences. Then, it led to questioning, especially of authority. Many stopped at this step, after they were reassured, trusting in their so-called 'betters', making their fears out to be nothing more than simple fears.

The next step, however...

"Miss Granger, you will quit with those filthy lies at once!" Umbridge hissed, walking towards her threateningly. "Continued disruption of this class with wild fantasies will result in detention. Repeated occurrences will result in a penalty to your final grade!"

Was_ defiance._

Hermione stood up, gripping her wand which she had pulled out of her pocket tightly. She met Umbridge's stance with a threatening stare. "I will not." She declared, making many of the students gasp.

Umbridge was taken aback by her clear rebellion, however she, too, refused to back down. "That's it, Miss Granger! For your impudence and refusal to quit spreading lies, this Friday you will…"

WHACK!

Umbridge screeched in pain as a textbook went flying through the air, smacking her in the head and causing her to trip and fall.

_Wow… those things make good projectiles. _Harry however smirked as he lowered his hand. "You know that's really bad. For a Defence Professor, of all people, not to see a big, useless textbook go flying in the air towards them."

"_POTTER!" _Umbridge growled, standing up. "Cornelius was right about you being a delinquent! Assaulting a Professor to defend your filthy…"

"No, I just did that because I didn't like you," Harry said. "No disrespect, Umbridge, but…" he looked like he was trying to suppress his laughs. "You look like a bloody toad of all things! How can I possibly respect a big, fat _toad_?" He mocked.

All the students were looking at him in complete shock. Hermione had also whirled around, looking at him incredulously. No doubt she was wondering what he was trying to pull.

He was saving her ass, of course.

"POTTER! Detention! Detention this Friday and next!"

Harry had a disappointed look on his face. "That's all? You said it yourself – I just assaulted a teacher. Too bad you can't bring it up with Dumbledore right? Since we're in league and all. But you and Cornelius – that's a whole different story isn't it? I'm wondering what he can see in your repugnant features."

By now Umbridge was so furious she had started shaking. Gone was the sickly sweet, false façade, and her face had gone pale in shock.

He smirked, continuing to prod her along. "I bet it makes you feel good inside doesn't it? Lauding your authority over these students, over other people. You sit there, with your fake smile and pink fluffy dress and sickeningly polite demeanour, but we _both_ know what's really inside you, the part that wants to get out even now and torture everyone here. The part that wants to be the bully, after being the bullied for so long, the part that wants power. You know the incantation, Umbridge. Just one word, _one word_, and you can finally feel good again, all in the name of the Ministry, right?"

Umbridge had subconsciously armed herself with her wand, an unusually short one he noted, and was currently gripping it so tight her knuckles were turning white. Many of the students were confused at the exchange, however Hermione was looking at him in shock, slight suspicion and even awe.

The whole summer, he had committed himself to the art of reading people, and learning about the human psyche, and how to push and prod it. It was a dying art in the wizarding world, and their society was so ass-backwards it produced terribly uncomplicated people, who in addition to that were lazy and heavily prejudiced.

And guessing how red she had gotten, he was certain he cut right through her.

"Potter…" she hissed. "You are a disruption to this class! One hundred points from Gryffindor and detention with me for the REST OF THE YEAR!" She looked gleeful at this.

"Why Umbridge, I didn't know you had it in you." Harry mocked.

"OUT! GET OUT!" The woman croaked in white fury, storming away into her office.

-A-

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione screamed when they were back in the Gryffindor dorms. "I cannot believe you just…"

"Saved your ass?" He finished. "You have no moral high ground here Hermione. She would have destroyed you and you know it."

"Well what about you?" She demanded, pointed her finger in accusation. "You said yourself that she must be working for Fudge! And you just showed how vicious she really is! She'll crucify you in those detentions!"

"You're not seeing the bigger picture here. Woman like Umbridge always want more. And with dear Fudge trying to get his grubby fingers in Hogwarts it's inevitable that she's going to get that."

"And? Your point?"

Slowly, Harry's lips curled into what some Gryffindors had started calling the 'Potter smirk', when something was about to happen. "The more authority she has, the more her mask drops. It's an inevitable consequence, given the shaping forces of her life, she will become… intoxicated by it. When that happens… she will be cruel to anyone, but especially cruel to those who have earned her ire beforehand. I'm just providing the scapegoat first, considering I've not finished torturing her. You could say I haven't even started."

Once again, Hermione held that scrutinising look. Not surprising. Harry didn't really do subtlety. He was learning it gradually, but he would never go to the effort to disguise who he really was. "Harry…"

Her eyes widened in surprise when he leaned in and gripped her in a strong hug. She stiffened slightly, before relaxing into it with some hesitation.

"Hermione, you're one of my best friends. However something's happening to me, something that people will fear, that I fear. But it's exciting as well," he whispered into her ear. "I'm… transforming. Evolving. And I can tell the same thing is happening to you as well."

Her eyes flicked to him in shock and fear. He knew what was going on in her mind, as Hermione scanned his face, wondering if he _really_ knew what was happening to her, desperately trying to detect any hint of a lie, or of some unrevealed truth, as well as shock that he was the one behind it all. And he knew what the voices within were telling her.

"Accept it," Harry said softly. "And when we have fully transformed… you and I will be best friends forever." Slowly he took her hand, sliding down her robe to reveal the bracelet he had given her. As Harry touched the gems, they glowed receptively, acknowledging their master, to her wide eyes. "You're still wearing it..." He removed his hand, pulling her robe down to obscure it from view once more. "You should keep wearing it. It looks good on you."

He had his sneaking suspicion that Hermione had already made the connection, but chose to continue wearing it, because she… liked what she was becoming, despite her initial refusals. Already at Hogwarts he could see the insanity slowly becoming a part of her. But instead of fully embracing it, she continued instead to live with it as a necessary burden with useful benefits. But one could only live for so long, so near to that brink, without either retreating completely away from it, or falling off it to be consumed.

He could still see Hermione was desperately holding onto what she believed so strongly. She was fighting against the change. But she had advanced at a rapid pace, faster than he had originally thought, and Harry knew that she was _nearly_ ready to wake up. It had been a risk to reveal himself, but he was confident it was the right choice, because she was seeing things now as they were, and not as she was brainwashed into believing. She would eventually come to him when she was ready.

And to wake her up… all she needed now was one final little push.

-A-

Instead of going to Potions, Harry decided to skip it and head onto the grounds to get some fresh air and avoid the teachers. Two confrontations in a day was pushing it a bit this early in the year, and with the Marauder's map, it would be easy to avoid the teachers.

Speaking of the map, Harry had spent some type fully analysing it and breaking it down. He was amazed at the amount of spellwork and talent that had been put into it. It was a genuine masterpiece, and to top it all off it had been done by students.

Harry pulled the map out now. He placed his hand over it and sent off a short pulse of magic. It had been completely reconfigured now so that it would only respond to him, and to those whose permission he gave. He had also made many… extensions.

Rolling his finger over it, like it was a touchscreen laptop, he scrolled over to the grounds, smiling as he saw who was on it before walking down there. It was a beautiful day, after all, not a day meant to be stuck in classrooms.

Walking to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, by the lake, he smiled as he saw who he was looking for, effortlessly leaping over the fence.

Luna was gently stroking the head of a thestral, dirty long blonde hair swaying in the cooling breeze. "You're not crazy. You're just as sane as I am." She stated, feeding it an apple.

Harry chuckled slightly as he walked towards her in a calm, confident, yet unthreatening manner. He moved to brush his hand over one of them, but at its unconscious desire to move away, decided against it. Animals seemed to have developed an aversion to him, some more than others. This reaction seemed tame really. "I think that out of the both of us, you're the more sane," he said, walking up beside her.

She smiled. "Hello Harry Potter."

"My friends just call me Harry," he answered simply.

"Is that right?" Luna kneeled down, handing the rest of the apple to a smaller thestral.

"So… who was it?" Harry asked.

"My mother," she said. "She was a brilliant witch, but she tended to experiment. One time, one of those spells backfired. I was nine at the time."

Harry noted the small tinge of sadness in her voice. "It's always hard to lose love ones. And to see them die especially. Some say that they greatly influence our lives. Our personality. Our appearance. Our… behaviour."

She turned to regard him with her misty grey eyes. "You know, you're not at all what I expected, Harry Potter."  
"Really? And why is that?" He asked in curiosity.

"I thought that you'd have a serious nargle infestation like everyone else. But they seem to leave you alone, for the most part."

"I told you before…" Harry held out a hand to the thestral Luna was feeding, which shivered and moved away. "They know who to be afraid of."

Again, he could feel her gaze boring into him. She was not unlike Hermione in some ways. As a Ravenclaw she was clearly smart, and she wasn't limited in her world views either. And she knew the pain of loss, and was strong enough to overcome it, and be strong in her beliefs.

And now, her thirst for knowledge desired her to find out more about him. He was not as she expected after all. And from her interest in unusual creatures, she clearly loved a good mystery.

He turned around, giving her a small smile even as she continued to stare at him with an unknowing, dreamy look in her eyes. He reached forward, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Luna…"

"My dad and me support you, you know," she interrupted. "About You-Know-Who really being back and the Ministry and Daily Prophet secretly conspiring to spread lies about you and Dumbledore."

Dumbledore. That was the other big issue. He himself held no loyalties to anyone anymore, and the man had not done him any favours. The voices had continually told him to be wary of the man, and under no circumstances tell him of their existence, however the main problem in recruitment was loyalty to him.

However, he was still an unknowable entity, a distant person in authority, a chess master playing a game. And that was his weakness, that cloak of shadow, obscuring his true intent. For all he stood for – a symbol was nothing without people to believe in it.

Harry chose to be blunt however. He didn't like outright lying. "Dumbledore and I… are under scrutiny, which is true. However though people fit us under the same umbrella, in actuality we share very different viewpoints." He stated. "Though we both know conspiracy is the inevitable consequence of Government. Government is formed by the people to assuage their fears, make up for their inadequacies. But by giving it power, they lose control over their own lives. They forget the true nature of things. The true nature of anarchy."

He could tell Luna was hesitating, though again, it was unnoticeable. Harry doubted the girl was often left speechless and seemed to be unflappable, however he had continually surprised her. Maybe the girl had listened in on conversations regarding him, and had built up a profile both from hearsay and observation, but now; he was blowing these observations out of the water.

Harry smiled. "I told you before; you are beautiful girl. Your mind, in particular is dazzling.

"That's very nice of you to say so," she said, regaining her dreamy façade. "And you too are very beautiful, Harry Potter."  
He grinned, making his way back to the castle. "I told you before – my friends call me Harry." Here, he paused. "And I count you a friend."

-A-

Even as he made his way through the week, Harry could feel Luna's gaze on him constantly, observing him, his routine, what he did.

She was curious, like all clever people, especially in the throngs of a good mystery. She was wondering who he really was, who Harry Potter had changed to become, and most importantly, wondered why he treated her so well, to even flirt openly and call her 'beautiful'.

Classes were a breeze. Faking wand casting, his ability had been highly praised by the teachers. He mostly avoided Potions class, instead taking the time to think what he was going to do.

Harry had never been a bit of a planner, and most of his plans were simple, and shifted on the spot. However that didn't necessarily mean he wasn't well prepared. He was using the time to figure out Dumbledore's schedule, and where and when he was in the office, as well as the general pattern of teachers. On top of that, he had expanded the Marauder's map to include other important areas, such as Grimmauld Place or the Chamber of Secrets, though to fully set the enchantments he needed to actually be there. Furthermore he had expanded it to include other non-human entities, though it was mainly to see whether Fawkes was in the office or not.

He had also taken time as always to nurture his abilities and focus them. Harry realised that much of his offensive power lay from intense visualisation to help shape and manipulate attacks, and if he focused his visualisation further and compressed his magic, he could form impressive attacks. It had taken quite a bit of anime watching and comic book reading to get inspiration to focus his magic into specific shapes and techniques instead of simply releasing it as thin flames or generic beams. It seemed silly that he hadn't thought of this earlier, but hey, he was deprived of a childhood of watching awesome cartoons and all that.

And he also monitored Hermione's progress. She continued to wear the bracelet, though what she didn't know was that it didn't matter – its magic had already merged itself into her own magical core. It was to simply show that she seemed to have the illusion of choice – that what was happening was a consequence of her own doing.

However, he knew she wouldn't take it off, not just because of Harry, though that was significant, but also to the power it brought. He always saw her in the library, however what others didn't know was that she was studying things far ahead of what they should be doing. She had managed to cleverly obtain a pass to the Restricted Section, and could almost always be seen in there, browsing through the books with a hunger in her eyes unlike any hunger he had ever seen in her before. The intoxication of power, after all, was hard to resist, and soon she would find that once his magic completely merged with her own her magical power would significantly increase. To fully unleash it however, she required a key – namely him.

Her mental state was also deteriorating, and it was affecting her behaviour. Once again she snapped at Umbridge and this time Harry decided not to shelter her, though her detention was the week after his own. She also snapped at Ron much more frequently and much more viciously, on one occasion she even pulled her wand on him. It would only be a matter of time before she hit breaking point. Hermione probably believed she was strong enough to handle it, or refused to back out because she thought it was a test from him.

The old Hermione would have taken it off at the first moment; however it was enchanted to be more addictive the longer it was worn. What first started out as a suggestion not to remove it would turn into necessity.

That… and she had changed much from the old Hermione.

It was now the end of the week, and Harry was contemplating whether or not to go to his detention with Umbridge. Though Snape was undoubtedly pleased in the short-term he was skipping classes, though that was likely to change if he continued to do so next week, Umbridge would inevitably find some way of trying to punish him further. She would probably go to Dumbledore or McGonagall, though they were helpless to do anything. He couldn't be expelled since Dumbledore needed to keep an eye on him here, and the Ministry couldn't do anything this early in the game either.

Harry looked down at the Marauder's map, and grinned as he realised the Headmaster's office was completely deserted. Grabbing a pouch from his trunk, he pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and made his way towards Dumbledore's office. This easily took priority over making fun of the toad.

With the help of the map, he easily avoided any teachers and students, and soon enough he was in front of the gargoyle. Though he could've easily gotten there without his Cloak, he had no idea how long he'd be and couldn't turn completely invisible by himself, so it was better to bring it along.

Looking closely at the map, he tapped the figure of the gargoyle, watching as black text appeared above him, before smirking and looking up. "Fizzing whisbees."

Really. Even without the map he was making this too easy, but Harry had no doubt there would be protective barriers and wards of some kind. After all, the man seemed to know who entered his office without even looking, so it stood to reason it was a defensive measure.

And because of that he was slightly disappointed to find nothing more than a few identification wards and barriers to ward off those with ill intent. Dumbledore was making this simple for him. He easily avoided them, adding a layer over his cloak to completely mask his presence, before reaching his first goal behind Dumbledore's desk.

_The Sword of Gryffindor._

Detecting no protection of any kind other than the case itself, he gently unlocked it and prised it open, gripping the weapon for the first time since the incident in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry took a moment to examine it, doing a few experimental swings. It still felt incredible in his hands, perfectly balanced and finely crafted. It was probably one of the greatest weapons ever produced by the Goblin race. He reached into his pouch, pulling out a fake Sword of Gryffindor and replacing it in the case before taking some cloth and wrapping it around the real sword, dropping it in the pouch, which had, of course, been greatly expanded.

That was the first thing done. With that, Harry turned and walked towards the fireplace, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. "Grimmauld Place," he announced calmly, stepping into the green flames.

Harry had never been one for Floo travel, and even now, that didn't changed, as he landed with a grunt in the fireplace unceremoniously on his ass. _Note to self: need to learn another method of long-distance travel. _Ducking out from the fireplace, he looked around, and, satisfied that there wasn't anyone here, quickly pulled out the Marauder's map, and began making the necessary enchantments for it to work.

Harry watched as the map pulsed with magical energy, sending out a wave, much like sonar, and bounced off every surface. Slowly, he watched as black ink began forming themselves on the parchment, lining up until he had a map of Grimmauld Place.

Quickly he pulled his Invisibility Cloak over himself as he realised Sirius was coming down, clearly to check who had come in through the Floo.

Lying in wait in the corner of the room, he watched as Sirius came down, scratching his head in confusion before shaking it and going back up. Harry waiting five minutes before going to the fireplace again.

Mapping out Grimmauld and stealing the Sword of Gryffindor weren't the only things he wanted to do tonight. There was something else he wanted, and as he reached the Floo, he felt something well up inside him, something he hadn't felt in a while. Hesitation.

If he did this, then he'd be fully committed. Fully committed to whatever he had cooking up in his head, because half the time even he didn't know what he was planning to do. However, he felt as if it were all leading up to something, something big. Something…

Harry snorted and broke off from his chain of thought. Who was he kidding about this dramatic tragic hero bull?

Putting his hand on the fireplace, he sent out a pulse of magic, 'seeing' as it went through the connections and lighting up the paths it took before returning, giving him a full map of where they went and how far they were.

However one pulse went dark as soon as it hit the location, giving Harry no indication of the distance, or how big the fireplace or abode was.

_That _was where he was going.

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it in, stepping through, but instead of calling out the location, Harry directed the intent of his magic towards that location before disappearing in a whirl of green flames.

As soon as he appeared in the location his eyes widened before he ducked down, dodging a hail of spell fire.

Mad-Eye Moody looked at him incredulously. "Potter? What are you doing here? How did you even find my home?" Slowly he narrowed his eyes. "Very clever trick, but no way is Potter that smart." He raised his wand threateningly. "So who are you? Tell me and I might let you live."

"Not bad, Mad-Eye," Harry said with a smirk, crossing his arms as if he wasn't being held at wandpoint. "You really do practise constant vigilance after all."  
"Answer me!" The man snapped. His glowing magical eye was spinning, looking for any additional threats. "Don't make me injure you before using Veritaserum."

"That's assuming you _can _injure me. And for the record, I'm not impersonating anybody. I am Harry Potter. Of course, you'd know all about being impersonated, given that happened last year, right?"

Again, Moody's eyes widened in shock. "Bloody hell! You are Potter! Then what do you want? And why in blazes are you here?"  
"What I want? Oh, nothing much." Harry said offhandedly. "Millions of wizards and muggles dying in pain and fear. All their meaningless lives brought to a horrifying conclusion… and as for your second question, you have something I want."  
Moody chuckled. "Do you really think you can take me, Potter? I'll simply stun you and take you to Dumbledore, see why you're acting like this. I've certainly no intention of giving you anything!"

"You misunderstand me…" Harry hunched down, gripping his left hand as it formed into a claw-like shape. "I don't intend to ask. I intend to take it from you." He smirked, and began focusing his magic.

Moody could only watch in astonishment as a blazing white light began to form in Harry's palm. _W-Wandless magic! How can he do that? And with this much intensity? _

The white light engulfed his hand, crackling with energy like bolts of lightning. It was giving off an incredible amount of energy, so much that Moody couldn't focus his magical eye on it for fear of being blinded. It was loud, too, giving off strange chirping noises. Almost like… birds?

"You should really listen to Arthur Weasley more, you know. Then you might learn a bit about the classics," Harry smirked evilly, running forward and disappearing in a burst of speed.

Quickly Moody stifled his shock and conjured up a strong shield – however that wasn't enough as he suddenly reappeared and thrust his hand towards him, easily breaking through the shield and piercing his heart, going straight through and out.

"CHIDORI!" Harry yelled, watching as Moody turned to him in astonishment, before coughing up blood and slumping down, death claiming him instantly.

Harry pulled out his hand, panting slightly at the use of focused magic and mental concentration, letting the energy dissipate before looking at his arm covered in blood. _So, I killed someone. In cold blood, no less. _Then he laughed. _Well, that was fun, if a tad bit excessive and flashy. Now for my prize. _Bending over, he plucked out Moody's magical eye, regarding it for a moment and pocketing it.


End file.
